Texas Surgeon: an Autobiography Page: 76
This book is part of the collection entitled: Rescuing Texas History, 2010 and was provided to The Portal to Texas History by the University of Texas Health Science Center Libraries .
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thickets I would be able to flush all the birds I wanted. Sud-
denly I realized I had lost my way, and was concerned, for the
Knobs stretch for endless steep miles, night falls like a curtain,
and the frost of early morning chills to the marrow.
Moving to higher ground, I spied a column of smoke rising
into the air beyond a somewhat higher ridge across another
little draw. I headed for this smoke, slipping and skidding on
the steep ground. As I stepped from a clearing I caught sight of
a man beside a tree, a rifle in the crook of his arm, the other arm
ready to fling the weapon to his shoulder. Always watching me,
he drew back a few steps. Then, without turning, he began to
signal with his left arm, holding his gun with his right. The
next instant, and it seemed like a dream, I saw he had his rifle
at the ready, and was moving toward me. "Boy, drop that piece
and don't yew move!" I heard him shout. I obeyed. Quickly he
was up to me. "Put up yoh hands, naow," he said in a high voice,
"and don't yew drop them, else Ah'll drill you."
To add to my discomfiture I now saw that two other men,
also carrying rifles, had materialized out of the patch of black
woodland at the ridge, beyond which the smoke was rising.
They, too, came up to me. An inquisition began. Who was I?
Where did I come from? Where was I staying? What was I
doing in these parts? A thin fellow with a black beard and
mustache, dressed in linsey-woolsey rags, did the talking.
"Now, son, yew tell me what Mr. Price looks like, and tell
me right smart," he ordered. Dr. Price was a short, chunky man
with black eyes and a white beard, I said. All the questions
satisfactorily answered, my captors lowered their rifles and
smilingly spat out streams of tobacco juice. "Ah see yew've got
Mr. Price's gun sure enough," the spokesman said with amuse-
ment. "Ah'll tell you something, son," he went on, "this ain't
no fittin' place for yew, y'heah? This country's full of varmints."
At which my captors laughed. Then the bearded man said: "Ah
reckon he's a friend of Bobby Price's sure enough. Take this
boy home, Anse. He's done got hisself lost."
Here’s what’s next.
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Atkinson, Donald Taylor. Texas Surgeon: an Autobiography, book, 1958; New York. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth143566/m1/88/: accessed June 28, 2017), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; crediting University of Texas Health Science Center Libraries.